“LET’S take the kids to a theme park!” Said no parent, ever.

We promised our daughter that for her birthday – she’s eight – we would take her to Lightwater Valley on a date that would roughly coincide with her birthday which turned out to be the May half-term.

Pulling into the car park, a sea of people carriers with utterly pointless “baby/princess/rock star on board” stickers met us as we took our space. It was going to be a long day.

There are three types of family that go to theme parks. The completely unprepared, who pay on the day, don’t bring any food with them, don’t know where they’re going, eat a hot-dog before going on the Ultimate and let nature take its course over the back of some unassuming reveller’s head midway through the second descent.

Then there’s the uber-prepared, the picnic-packers who lug cool bags around the site, planning each and every ride with meticulous care, who have bought their tickets using a voucher code three months in advance. They’re often known to run between rides in order to get the most out of their day. You never, ever see them smile.

Then there are those who are in the middle of the two extremes. They bought their tickets in advance, they didn’t bring food as they didn’t see the point of heaving an incredibly heavy bag around all day, they knew where the rides were but didn’t feel the need to plan the trip as it’s a theme park, not a military exercise.

We were in the third set, proudly. But there was enough of types one and two to make me almost lose complete faith in the British public.

WE’RE in the middle of a technological revolution, but it can easily be explained by a soft rock song from the 1990s.

“The future's in the air, I can feel it everywhere, blowing with the wind of change”. Not my words, but the words of The Scorpions, who were clearly talking about the advent of the internet. Obviously.

The biggest change for us, as a newspaper, is the introduction this week of a metered paywall, where readers are required to register to read a set amount of articles, then pay to read more.

The reaction has been considerable. According to one comment, the paper had “signed its own death warrant” with the development. In which way? By daring to charge for its content?

The printed product has carried a cover price for every edition since its inception. The digital version of the newspaper has been in existence for ten years.

Maybe we have missed the boat, and that people have become used to getting something for nothing.

But journalism costs money. It’s not some operation where we are stacking up the coins in a big basement to go into our annual Christmas party fund.

It’s a pound a month to get unlimited access to the website, where you can access thousands of well-written, well-researched stories. And this column, which I’m sure you will agree is worth the entrance fee alone.

SPEAKING of change, the editor of our sister paper, the Darlington and Stockton Times, left yesterday.

Malcolm Warne is a man of great integrity who has has been an asset to the famous weekly newspaper.

His one black mark, was that he gave me a job, from which I’ve never looked back, and something that I’m sure he has always regretted.